Depart Azkaban
by ThinkingSpeck
Summary: A strict single-point-of-departure fanfic of Lesswrong's epic fanfic "Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality", diverging partway through chapter 81. If you haven't read chapter 81 of Methods, this story will spoil Methods for you in a big way. You have been warned.
1. Chapter 1: A Different Choice

**Author's Notes:** The start of this chapter is copied directly from LessWrong's "Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality", chapter 81 (s/5782108/81/). The transition from LessWrong's words to my own is sharp, and is intended to pass unnoticed. I am merely exploring the consequences of one decision being made differently, and otherwise being as faithful as I can to LessWrong's story.

**Update:** Holy cow, people have actually read this and some of you even like it! Thank you all, seriously. Guess I'm going to have to write some more...

I've renamed our new character - my thanks to The Next Man and especially to TheOneButcher for prompting that. I had originally been unsure between the name I chose and the name that TheOneButcher later suggested, and I think I chose wrong.

I promise I will write more as fast as I can, but I can't commit to a schedule yet.

**Chapter One: A Different Choice**

And Harry knew, then, as he looked at the red-golden bird, what he had to do as well. It should have been obvious from the beginning, that solution.

"Then I too will do what I must," Harry said up to Dumbledore, as though the two of them stood alone in the room. "You do realize that, don't you?"

The old wizard shook his trembling head. "You will change your mind when you are older -"

"I'm not talking about that," Harry said, his voice still strange in his own ears. "I mean that I will not allow Hermione Granger to be eaten by Dementors under any circumstances. Period. Regardless of what any law says, and no matter what I have to do to stop it. Do I still need to spell it out?"

A strange male voice spoke from somewhere far away, "Be sure that the girl is taken directly to Azkaban, and put under extra guard."

Harry waited, staring at the old wizard, and then spoke again. "I will go to Azkaban," Harry said to the old wizard, as though they stood alone in the world, "before Hermione can be taken there, and start snapping my fingers. It may cost me my life, but by the time she gets there, there won't be an Azkaban anymore."

Some members of the Wizengamot gasped in surprise.

Then a greater number started laughing.

"How would you even get there, little boy?" someone said, from among those who were laughing.

"I have my ways of going places," said the boy's distant voice. Harry kept his eyes on Dumbledore, on the old wizard staring at him in shock. Harry didn't look directly at Fawkes, didn't give his plan away; but in his mind he prepared to summon the phoenix to transport him, prepared to fill his mind with light and fury, to call for the fire-bird with all his might, he might have to do it upon the instant if Dumbledore pointed his wand -

"Would you truly?" the old wizard said to Harry, also as if the two of them stood alone in the room.

The room went silent again as everyone stared in shock at the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, who seemed to be taking the mad threat completely seriously.

The old wizard's eyes were locked only on Harry. "Would you risk everything - everything - only for her?"

"Yes," Harry said back in reply.

_That's the wrong answer, you know, _said Slytherin. _Seriously._

_But it's the true answer._

"You will not see reason?" said the old wizard.

"Apparently not," Harry said back.

The gazes stayed locked.

"This is terrible folly," said the old wizard.

"I am aware of this," answered the hero. "Now get out of my way."

Strange light glinted in the ancient blue eyes. "No, Harry Potter. I cannot allow you to go into debt to Lucius Malfoy, and I will not allow you to attack Azkaban. You will not be able to reach Azkaban as you intend; there are restraints of which you are unaware. I truly am sorry."

Harry stared at the old wizard, thinking desperately. So Fawkes was ruled out, probably by the same spell which prevented the bird of light from screaming at the Wizengamot. Harry had no further options – only an overwhelming but impotent desire to be in Azkaban. Hoping against hope, he turned to Fawkes anyway.

Fawkes stirred, but was restrained by whatever magic the wizards had placed on him. As he stirred, however, a patch of air near Harry's left hand flickered and _another_ creature of living fire appeared, blazing brighter than Harry had ever seen of Fawkes.

Harry had only a split-second to react – the Hall at large was incoherent uproar, but Dumbledore was already pointing his wand and McGonagall was reaching for her own. As Harry tried to gather his wits, his left hand was already reaching towards the furious golden light; a moment later, boy and bird were gone.

* * *

Harry felt the _wrongness_ the instant he flickered back into existence, knew it even through the phoenix-warmth suffusing his body. He knew where he was and why, even before his eyes registered the voids around him.

Beyond those voids, three blank stone walls loomed high above him. He noted fleetingly that his hole had been repaired. Far above him, the triangle of sky visible was an incongruously bright and untroubled blue. Beneath his feet was a soft powdery soil, akin to sifted ashes. Dozens of voids thronged around him, even as his fingers began a precise and well-rehearsed sequence of movements on his wand. He saw that the voids were retreating, driven away by the resolve which had summoned the phoenix. He wondered briefly whether they were also afraid of the phoenix, if "afraid" even made sense in describing Dementors. Then his fingers finished their complicated movements, and he brandished his wand. There was no need now to censor any thoughts; his thought was rejection of death, and this time he could open the floodgates and pour himself out and do it _now_.

"_Expecto Patronum!"_

The shining humanoid leapt from Harry's wand, unbearably bright within the instant. Harry turned away and closed his eyes, and in his mind he sank the wells deeper and deeper inside himself. In a sense he had forgotten that he was in Azkaban to destroy a finite number of Dementors; his task was to spend himself and destroy Death itself, and in that task there was no room for restraint or half-measures. Even turned away, even through closed eyelids, he felt the heat in his eyes as the incandescent inferno burned his life-force away.

The boy stood still, a tiny figure in a pose which would have looked dramatic in another time and place. Here and now it was a mere speck within the towering edifice of Azkaban, no more than a hint of a silhouette within the searing light of the absolute Patronus.

Far above, the iron calm of a hundred years shattered as Bahry One-Hand stared slack-jawed down into the Pit. He couldn't see the Patronus clearly or Harry at all, not at this distance, but he recognised Patronus light, and he couldn't begin to understand how it could be brighter than the midday sun above him. Turning his aching eyes away from the light, he missed the arrival of Fawkes the phoenix with Albus Dumbledore.

Fawkes had flickered into existence some 50 metres above the bottom of the pit, high enough to be clear of the Dementors. Dumbledore, suspended in mid-air by this bird on his shoulder, stared downward in shock and utter confusion – at first he saw only an impossible brightness of Patronus fire, bright like the heart of a nuclear explosion. It took a few seconds for his eyes to find Harry, that faint mote lost in the impossible silver fire. Then, even as Dumbledore discerned the faint shadow, the light flicked out so abruptly that his eyes saw only after-images and darkness.

As his sight cleared, Albus saw the tiny figure lying motionless in the dirt. He saw the wings of golden fire spread over the boy's face. Albus and Fawkes dropped rapidly, landing before the unmoving form of Harry James Potter-Evans-Verres.

With rapid sweeps of his dread wand, the old man cast a wordless flurry of charms to determine the boy's health: he was alive, thank Merlin, and apparently not harmed in any way beyond normal exhaustion. Despite a prolific career in magical research, despite much careful thought since the incident with the Dementor at Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore still had absolutely no idea how a first-year could possibly wield (let alone _invent_) such potent magicks. Who was this child, that he could so abruptly destroy almost every Dementor in Magical Britain? And at that thought, his attention turned suddenly to the political implications - this would radically change the political realities in the Wizengamot and beyond, but how?

These calculations were interrupted by the Bahry One-Hand, voice steady once more as he brought his broomstick down to ground level. "What in Merlin's name just happened?"

"Ah, Bahry. It appears that Harry Potter has just destroyed every Dementor in Azkaban. And before you ask - no, I have not the faintest idea how."

"You can't be serious."

"Deadly serious, I'm afraid. He threatened it when his friend was sentenced to be sent here, and he seems to have carried out his threat. I tried to stop him, but I failed."

Bahry stared searchingly at Dumbledore for a long moment, then yanked the mirror off his belt.

"Mike, tell Director Bones that the Dementors are all gone. The Boy-Who-Lived is lying on the ground, and he has a phoenix."

Auror Li passed on the message, then unlocked and activated the Vanishing cabinet - however Director Bones was going to handle this situation, there was no way that she wouldn't start by flooding Azkaban with Aurors. Sure enough, Amelia Bones immediately strode out of the Cabinet with the first part of a substantial fighting force - trio after trio followed on her heels, rapidly filling the command room.

"A1, B1, C1 trios, I want a double sweep of the spirals. Go down fast, come back up as slowly as you need to. Stay in contact with each other and with Auror Li, and report anything suspicious. A2, B2, C2 trios - secure the top of each spiral. Broomstick trios 1, 2 and 3, aerial surveillance of the whole place. Other trios, stay with me. Li, you're in charge of communications - stay here, stay in contact with everyone, and tell me anything I need to hear. McCusker, you're with Li. All of you, we lost Bellatrix Black last time. This time we could lose all of them - today we're looking at a mass breakout. Go!"

Nine trios scattered, all faces grim and all wands out.

"Li, McCusker - there will be more of my people coming through the Cabinet. They're to stay in the command room as reserve forces. Broomstick trios 4 and 5, with me."

Director Bones had already mounted her broomstick, and now she flew out the window and dived down to the bottom of the Pit, broomstick trios 4 and 5 catching up there a moment later and turning outwards to cover the entire area for potential threats.

"Albus. Bahry. What's going on?"

A moment of silence, and then Albus spoke. "When I arrived, I could see nothing except an impossibly bright Patronus charm. When it vanished a few seconds later, Mr Potter was on the ground, and I could see no Dementors. It appears that I was correct to take him seriously in his threat to destroy Azkaban, although I was still unable to prevent him from actually carrying out that threat. Beyond that I know nothing, I'm afraid."

Amelia Bones glanced at the crumpled cloaks, dozens of them, scattered around on the dead soil, and decided to assume for now that the Dementors really had been destroyed - impossible, of course, but seemingly true nonetheless. She turned to the small boy lying unconscious on the ground, his face covered by the phoenix's wings.

"The usual charms revealed no damage beyond normal exhaustion," Albus added.

She turned to him. "Is it safe to wake him now, then?"

"I believe so, yes."

_"Innervate."_

Harry opened his eyes, and the phoenix moved its wings away from his face. He glanced up at the three adults watching him, craned his neck to look around at the bare earth with its crumpled cloaks, and then smiled. "I did it, didn't I? The only Dementor left in Magical Britain is the one in the Hall of the Wizengamot."

Albus was uncertain and Bahry frankly confused, so it was Amelia who spoke. "Mr Potter, do you confirm that you have destroyed Azkaban's Dementors?"

"Yes, that is correct."

"Was it your intention, or is it now your intention, to instigate a mass breakout from Azkaban?"

Harry paused, then shook his head slightly as he sat up.

"No. My primary goal, as stated before you and the entire Wizengamot, was to prevent Hermione Granger from being exposed to the Dementors of Azkaban. My secondary goal was to end the ongoing torture of prisoners by said Dementors. Actually freeing the prisoners right now would be highly irresponsible, although I would like to see all current sentences reconsidered in light of time already served under ceaseless torture. I trust that the decision to send a child to Azkaban has opened your mind to the possibility that some sentences meted out by our justice system might not be entirely just."

Amelia stared into the boy's face, searching for deceit but finding none. She turned to Dumbledore. "Do you believe him, Albus?"

"Yes. He may play games with words at times, but I have never yet known him to tell a direct lie. That is why I took his threat seriously, and I imagine it is why he has answered you so precisely and unambiguously."

Out of the corner of her eye, Amelia saw Harry nod slightly.

She pulled the mirror from her belt. "Li, what news?"

"Sweep teams are almost at the bottom, broomstick trios are flying circuits, and everyone else is in position. No trouble anywhere, nothing out of the ordinary except that we're in Azkaban without Patronuses and we're all fine."

"Tell the sweep teams they can relax a bit on their way back up, and call the broomstick trios in. The Dementors are gone and Harry Potter is claiming responsibility, but he insists he isn't trying to let the prisoners out. It seems we don't face a mass breakout today. Oh, and tell the Ministry that we don't need any more reinforcements."

"Will do, Director."

She turned back to Harry as he finished standing up, red-yellow bird settled serenely on his shoulder. "Do you have any idea what laws you've just broken?"

He stared at her. "Dementors are the foulest creatures known to me. They should not exist. I understand that the arrangement at Azkaban made political sense given that Dementors existed and couldn't be destroyed, although I strongly disapprove of that arrangement. I do not understand, Director Bones, how any decent human being could sincerely lament the destruction of Dementors, the healing of these wounds in the world."

"I agree with you, Mr Potter. The laws do exist, however, and you would be wise to consider them. As you are of a noble House, the matter will be brought before the Wizengamot. And as you have seen, the Wizengamot as a whole is no ally to you."

"With all due respect, Director Bones, I think I am far safer than that. The Boy-Who-Lived, symbol and champion of the Light, has just destroyed a large number of Dementors, symbols of Darkness. Not even Lucius Malfoy and his half-tame Wizengamot can touch me for that."

She watched his face for a moment longer, and then visibly relaxed. "Thank you, Mr Potter. You are of course correct on all points, and I now trust that you are telling the truth about your intentions. I apologise for interrogating you like this in your weakened state, but I had to be sure that there would be no breakout attempt."

Harry smiled faintly but said nothing, turning instead to the flaming bird on his shoulder. "Are you my phoenix?"

"Caw!"

"What should I call you?"

A pause, a quizzical are-you-stupid look from that glorious creature, and Harry blushed.

"OK, stupid question, but I still need to call you something. I'll call you Bentham if you don't mind, for another prison reformer."

The bird nodded slightly.

"Done, then. Hello Bentham, and thank you. Thank you so much."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at this, but forbore to comment. On his shoulder, Fawkes nodded companionably to Bentham.


	2. Chapter 2: A Worried Wizengamot

**Author's notes:** Unlike LessWrong, I don't have a pre-planned story arc or anything - I'm basically roleplaying all the characters all at once (and GMing as well), just to find out what happens next. I have no idea how long this story will be, or when or how the loose ends will resolve. I will try to post new chapters at least every fortnight, and hopefully every week, but I don't want to make definite commitments until I get used to this.

Also, I am delighted and flattered that so many people are interested in my fic. Thank you all, seriously. Thanks especially to everyone who has reviewed it - I have thought about every review, and I've made changes (both subtle and obvious) in response to a few.

**Edit:** As of August 21, I've edited this chapter to flesh it out a bit - I do have a tendency to rush things. Thanks again to the various reviews along those lines.

**Chapter 2: A Worried Wizengamot**

They arrived together in the Most Ancient Hall of the Wizengamot - two phoenixes, two powerful adults, and the one unfathomable child. Chief Warlock Albus Dumbledore strode to his podium, Fawkes still on his shoulder. Amelia Bones, Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, strode to her accustomed seat. And Harry James Potter-Evans-Verres, with the phoenix Bentham blazing on his shoulder, walked peacefully back to his seat beside Minerva McGonagall. For these few seconds, the Hall at large was silent in shock.

Dumbledore tapped the podium with the rod of the Hall. "The ninetieth session of the two-hundred-and-eighth Wizengamot is resumed. Now, we were discussing the debt owed by Hermione Granger to House Malfoy. I was refusing to allow Harry Potter to go into Lucius Malfoy's debt, and Mr Potter was threatening to destroy Azkaban if this chamber voted to send Miss Granger there. I repeat that I will not allow Harry Potter to go into Lucius Malfoy's debt. Mr Potter?"

Harry stood calmly, the peace of the phoenix washing through him as he faced the confused-looking instrument of death across the chamber from him. "Lord Malfoy, I say once more that I have no desire to be your enemy. I also have no desire to consider you my enemy. Let the debts pay for one another, but let no money change hands between us except the forty Galleons which I owe to your son. Let there be friendship once more between House Potter and House Malfoy."

"You tried to turn my son against me. Your friend tried to kill him. Do you deny it, boy?"

"I do, and I do. Had I intended to turn Draco against you, I would never have told him what I did about your love for him. And the very idea that Hermione Granger would try to kill him, or anyone else for that matter, is absurd. As I said before, we are all caught in a plot which was intended to take your son's life. You're smarter than that, Lord Malfoy."

Lucius Malfoy stared at the boy opposite him. Potter no longer seemed cold or angry, and he had somehow summoned a phoenix. Certain guesses at the boy's true identity no longer made sense, but that raised questions - if the boy wasn't Lucius' old master, then where did this power come from? Just who was this boy, and what did he want? Harry had disappeared for some minutes and then come back, with no explanation given - Lucius suspected that the world had changed in those few minutes, though he wasn't quite sure how. Had Potter really destroyed Azkaban? That seemed frighteningly possible, and in that case the next great power had arrived. Dumbledore was involved, of course, but the way they stood and the way they spoke told Lucius quite plainly that Harry was now in charge. That meddling old fool Dumbledore, the man who for many years had been trying to take over the world, was suddenly deferring to Harry Potter. This felt like the sort of moment that might make or break a life, the sort of moment that a Malfoy couldn't afford to handle badly. The boy might be bluffing, it might all be a trick, but Lucius' finely-honed instincts told him otherwise. The balance had shifted, and House Malfoy must once more shift accordingly. He considered challenging the boy for information, but decided that such a challenge would probably damage his prospects as second-in-command of the new order. And so, after a long pause, Lucius smiled at the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Very well, Mr Potter. The debt owed to House Malfoy by Hermione Granger is now paid in full, by the debt owed by House Malfoy to House Potter. No money need change hands. Let there be friendship between House Malfoy and House Potter. And as a token of that friendship, please consider that debt of 40 Galleons to be settled."

"Thank you, Lord Malfoy." Harry bowed solemnly to Lucius Malfoy, who returned the gesture.

A quiet yet compelling click, and then Dumbledore spoke. "It is done. And now, Mr Potter, please tell this chamber what you have just done."

Knowing his power in this moment, Harry paused fully half a minute to examine the Wizengamot. Throughout this time he stood calm and confident, his face perfectly neutral. The government of Magical Britain, those august representatives of the noble and most ancient Wizengamot, sat in uncomfortable silence. No one tried to interrupt him as he memorised faces and considered what to say. When he spoke, his voice held an unmistakeable note of command.

"Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot, today you sentenced a twelve-year-old girl to be tortured to death by the Ministry's Dementors in Azkaban. That she was most likely innocent is almost irrelevant here - you voted to send a twelve-year-old girl to Azkaban, and that shame should follow you to the grave. I have made my peace with Lord Malfoy; I bear him no further ill-will. The same cannot be said of the others among you who voted to send my friend to Azkaban."

Harry paused, taking in the state of the Wizengamot. They seemed nervous, perhaps even terrified, but not yet entirely cowed - some among the plum-coloured robes seemed unconvinced, though none so confident as to risk actually challenging him in any way. He continued.

"You have seen the wisdom and prudence of Lord Malfoy. Who among you will follow his example, and make peace with me voluntarily?"

Harry paused once more. No one would speak against him, but no one dared speak first to save themselves either. The bystander effect, of course, and he knew a solution. He could see certain family resemblances, and he was slowly matching names with faces.

"Lady Greengrass, some time ago I offered Daphne my protection. She declined, as it happened, but fortunately her friend Tracey Davis accepted my offer; you've heard that story, I trust. Despite this, you voted to send your daughter's friend, my friend Hermione Granger, to Azkaban. In this time of grace, here in the Most Ancient Hall of the Wizengamot, would you like to apologise?"

Many eyebrows shot up at this, but Lady Greengrass was no fool. And she was, in any case, rather ashamed of her vote - she was not enjoying the intrusion of personal affections into her political life.

"I apologise, Miss Granger, for voting to send you to Azkaban. Please forgive me, and let peace and friendship exist once more between House Granger and House Greengrass."

Hermione's mouth had been opening and shutting silently through all this, but now she managed to speak with surprising composure. "I, I accept your apology, Lady Greengrass. Friends."

Lady Greengrass now bowed her head towards Harry. "Please forgive me, Lord Potter."

Many more eyebrows were raised at this, but Harry was completely composed as he inclined his head towards her. "I forgive you, Lady Greengrass. Let there be friendship between our Houses."

It was a close-run thing, Harry knew, but this was enough - one by one, a large majority of those who had voted against Hermione now apologised both to her and to Harry. And, following the lead of Lady Greengrass, every single one of them addressed him as "Lord Potter".

When it became clear that the few holdouts weren't going to give in immediately, Harry turned to Dumbledore. "Chief Warlock, everyone is calling me 'Lord Potter'. I know that House Potter is a Noble and Most Ancient House, and that I am its last scion. What exactly are the restrictions on when I can officially be Lord Potter?"

Dumbledore looked surprised, but only slightly so. "As the last scion, you will acquire your title as soon as you come of age. Normally that would occur when you turn seventeen, but exceptions are possible. A vote in this chamber, for example, could declare you legally adult today. Shall I call the vote?"

Harry nodded. "Thank you, Chief Warlock, yes."

"By show of hands, to recognise Harry Potter as legally adult, and legally the Lord Potter."

Lucius Malfoy's hand was in the air immediately, as were all hands over on what Harry had thought of as Dumbledore's side of the room. The people who had apologised weren't far behind, and by then the vote was clear.

Dumbledore spoke once more. "Lord Potter, before the law of Magical Britain you are now an adult. You now have full control of your vault at Gringott's, and a seat in this chamber. Should you have further questions, please feel free to ask me at any time. And now, Lord Potter, would you _please_ tell your story?"

Harry smiled. "Thank you, Chief Warlock."

He turned to the Wizengamot at large, speaking especially to Lucius Malfoy.

"When you last saw me, I was disappearing from this very spot. As you have all no doubt guessed, from here I was transported instantly to Azkaban - to the central pit, in fact. There I used my Patronus to destroy every Dementor in Azkaban."

Even though they had in theory been expecting this, quite a few people gasped. A scar-faced man to Malfoy's right, one of the few holdouts against Harry Potter, actually stood up and yelled, "Arrest him! Those are national property - he's a traitor for destroying them!"

Dumbledore overrode him with a click of that rod. "Lord Jugson, once more you are out of line. Dementors were national possessions only so long as we had no way to destroy them - now that Lord Potter has eliminated them, I think that every sane adult in the country will merely breathe a sigh of relief. In any case, this chamber will certainly not entertain any suggestion that Lord Potter be punished for the tremendous service he has rendered to Magical Britain today. And Lord Jugson, if I may speak plainly? This young man, now recognised as Lord Potter, has succeeded today where Merlin himself tried and failed. As his headmaster I know of yet other magicks which he alone can wield, magicks which even I cannot comprehend. I know of no malice in him, Lord Jugson, but in any case I would suggest that opposing Lord Potter is extremely unwise. The world has changed, Lord Jugson. Truly, the world has changed."

Lord Jugson appeared to be struggling with his temper, but managed to hold his tongue and retake his seat. Harry continued.

"As I was saying, I destroyed every Dementor in Azkaban. As far as I'm aware, that thing 'guarding' Hermione right now is the only Dementor in all of Magical Britain. I haven't yet decided whether to destroy it also; I am open to suggestions on that point. I'm not sure whether anyone actually saw my Patronus, by the way, but Chief Warlock Dumbledore and Director Bones can both confirm that there are now no Dementors in Azkaban."

Every member of the Wizengamot looked either at Albus Dumbledore or at Amelia Bones for confirmation; both of them nodded, and Harry went on.

"That was quite a strain for me - I am only eleven years old, after all - so afterwards I passed out. When I woke up, I saw lots of people but no Dementors. Chief Warlock Dumbledore and Director Bones were both there, along with a large number of aurors. Director Bones asked me some questions and then scaled back the security operation, and then we came back here."

Harry paused, appreciating the confused expressions on the faces around the Hall. There were many questions to be asked of him, but it seemed that no one could think of any in particular right now. He went on.

"In that discussion with Director Bones, I assured her that I was not attempting to break anyone out of Azkaban. However, I do want every single prisoner in that hellhole to have their sentence reviewed. As I said to Director Bones, I trust that this morning's decision has opened your minds to the possibility that some sentences are perhaps not entirely just. Given that time spent in Azkaban is time spent under ceaseless torture, I feel that time already served should count for quite a lot when we reconsider those sentences."

No one moved, no one spoke. The Wizengamot was stunned into silence, so Harry continued.

"I call the vote, then. By show of hands, that the sentences of all current Azkaban inmates be reviewed."

This vote also passed with overwhelming support - these were experienced politicians, all of them, and few were foolish enough now to fight against such an overwhelming tide. The world had shifted, and they all knew it.

Dumbledore now spoke. "Done, then - there will be a review of all current Azkaban sentences. Any further business for the chamber?"

After a brief pause to establish that there was apparently no such business, Dumbledore continued.

"There being no further matters to consider, the ninetieth session of the two-hundred-and-eighth Wizengamot is now concluded."

He tapped his podium three more times with the dark rod, and the session was over.


	3. Chapter 3: A New Adult

**Author's notes: **Sorry for the long delay between chapters - study and domestic stuff kinda got in the way. There may now be a gap of about a month before classes finish and I have time to write much more, but other than that I'll try to post chapters fairly regularly. Many thanks to my reviewers - I'm spending more and more time thinking things through, and your ideas are often very helpful with that. I do assure you all that Harry's current run of successes will not last - the other shoe will indeed drop, though I'm not saying when. I'm getting more and more interested in where this story is going in the longer term, so it's looking like I'll write a lot more of it. I'm becoming invested in my characters, especially now that they're not entirely Yudkowsky's characters anymore.

My partner was kind enough to beta this chapter for me, and that made a huge difference, but it's a one-off; this isn't really her thing. If anyone reading this is interested in beta'ing this story for me, I would be eternally grateful. I'm fine with spelling and grammar, but I'm realising just how much my writing is improved just by my being told which aspects of a chapter are jarring for whatever reason, so I can fix them in advance.

**Edit:** With the aid of a much-appreciated prod from dersaidin, I realised that McGonagall really needed to explain herself a bit more. Also, many thanks to dersaidin for volunteering to beta this story. :-)

**Chapter Three: A New Adult**

As soon as Dumbledore tapped the podium, Harry was racing down the stairs towards Hermione - Bentham on his shoulder sped his passage dramatically, but Harry had no attention to spare for anything except his best friend. She stood up awkwardly as he approached, her face showing blank confusion.

"Harry, what? Just... what?"

Harry took her hands gently. "The world just changed, Hermione. Everything's pretty much OK now and I suddenly have a lot more power, although sooner or later it's all going to go horribly wrong, of course."

"Am I still sworn to you?"

"Technically yes, though I can probably release you if you want me to. I promise it's nothing more than a legal technicality to me, though, and it might be useful - this legal system is practically medieval, and I'm pretty sure a Muggleborn like you has much better legal protections if you're in service to a Noble and Most Ancient House. Do you want me to release you anyway?"

"No, you're probably right. I'll think it over later, and I'll let you know if I change my mind."

Harry nodded, and then they both fell silent. After a few moments, Professor McGonagall spoke. "Miss Granger, are you OK?"

Hermione smiled weakly. "Probably not."

She swayed slightly, and Harry stepped forward to catch her as she fell. She felt surprisingly light in his arms, and he remembered that he had a phoenix on his shoulder. He shifted his grip so that he was cradling her, and then looked up at Professor McGonagall.

"I think she's just exhausted, Professor. Should I take her to Madam Pomfrey?"

McGonagall nodded. "Thank you, Mr Potter. I shan't make this an order, but I would like to see you in my office sometime soon - I think we have some matters to discuss, you and I."

Harry nodded. "I was about to ask you the same thing, Professor. I'd be happy to speak to you as soon as I've handed Hermione over to Madam Pomfrey, if you're free. Would you like a lift back to Hogwarts?"

She paused a moment at that, before laying a hand on Harry's shoulder in assent. A moment later, the four of them flickered away from the Great Hall of the Wizengamot.

They flared back into existence inside the infirmary at Hogwarts, making Madam Pomfrey jump with fright. Before Madam Pomfrey could say anything, though, Harry laid Hermione gently on a nearby bed and turned to the healer. "I think she's just exhausted, but she's had a traumatic morning. I'd greatly appreciate your help and expertise, Madam Pomfrey."

She looked faintly indignant, but her immediate concern for a patient overrode all other considerations. She rapidly cast a series of diagnostic charms on the young witch, before visibly relaxing as she turned back towards Harry, Bentham and Professor McGonagall. "Indeed, nothing more than exhaustion. I'll give her a restorative potion when she wakes up, and then she'll probably be ready to leave. Is there anything else I should know about her traumatic morning?"

Harry shook his head, and then they took their leave of Madam Pomfrey and her infirmary. Neither Harry nor Professor McGonagall spoke on the way to her office, each taking the other's silence as confirmation that this conversation needed to be private. Once they were inside her office, Professor McGonagall closed the door and cast nine separate spells, of which Harry recognised five from Mr Bester and Professor Quirrell.

Minerva sat down behind her desk, and Harry perched on the soft chair in front of it. Bentham ruffled his feathers slightly, but stayed on Harry's shoulder. Harry and Minerva looked at each other for a moment, and then Minerva spoke.

"Harry, you did a great thing today. No, you did great things. You saved Hermione from an unthinkable fate. You seem to have turned the Wizengamot wholly to the side of Light in a matter of minutes. You emancipated yourself, with all that that entails. And, most importantly, you cleansed Azkaban. Thank you, Harry. Thank you. I believe the entire wizarding world owes you a debt of gratitude - I certainly do."

Harry smiled beatifically, the peace of the phoenix strong within him. "Thank you, Professor. Honestly, though, I just did what I had to do. I'd die before I'd let Hermione be eaten by Dementors. Actually I think I nearly did die, but that's another story."

Minerva winced at Harry's brush with death, and her face became more serious. She hesitated a moment, and then spoke again.

"Be careful, Harry - I should be most sorry to lose you, and I fear that you do not fully appreciate the dangers that you face. And with that... A moment, Mr Potter, if you don't mind. I need to think."

She pressed her face into her hands, tendons standing taut in her neck. This child in front of her wasn't entirely a child, she knew, but he was still her responsibility. And yet it was still a child's body that sat so rigid on the chair in front of her, a child's face looking at her. This was a first-year, for heaven's sake. How could she reconcile that with his belief that he was somehow responsible for the entire world? With the Wizengamot's mad ruling that Harry should be an adult already? It was all too much to ask of a boy, and yet he never complained. He grew angry only when she tried to shield him, tried to preserve some hint of childhood for him. Clearly he wanted to be an adult, and wanted to be treated as such. And, given that his wishes were so clear, had he not earned this? Had he not earned the right to be called an adult, if he so chose? It would mean breaking her role, stepping away from the stern-but-fair disciplinarian she always tried to be. It would mean making herself vulnerable. And yet it was, she ultimately decided, the right thing to do. And once she had decided that, her duty was clear. Not easy - never easy - but clear. She raised her head, and deliberately looked Harry Potter full in the face.

"I have decided that I should not be treating you like a normal student, like a child. I've tried so hard to make you fit my idea of what a Hogwarts first-year should be, and I now think that was a mistake. For that, Mr Potter, I am sorry. I still expect you to treat both me and my fellow staff members with respect, mind you, and in public I will still treat you like any other student, but here and now I acknowledge you as an adult. In private you may call me Minerva if you wish, although I'm afraid I must still insist that you address me more formally in public."

Harry nodded, smiling warmly. "Thank you, Minerva. I appreciate it - I really do."

She smiled back, reassured that she had made the right decision.

"And Harry, as a gesture... No, wait. I'm terribly sorry, Mr Potter, but this requires further thought."

Her face returned to her hands, but more calmly this time. She deliberately relaxed her shoulders as she considered the problem before her. She had wondered, off and on, whether she had done right in locking Harry's Time-Turner after that business with the Ministry. She had wondered more after Bellatrix Black's escape, with the implacable determination that he seemed to have acquired then. And now the question of safety loomed large - after what had happened to Draco Malfoy, she couldn't very well insist that Harry would never need his Time-Turner to escape from mortal peril in Hogwarts. She was beginning to appreciate that the future of the world might actually depend on Harry Potter, and to fear for that future if he didn't survive to adulthood. Thinking that way, Ministry restrictions on Time-Turner use suddenly seemed rather less important. There would be trouble if anyone found out, of course, but that was no longer a good enough reason for her to leave one of Harry's major defences crippled. She lifted her head once more.

"Harry, some time ago I locked your Time-Turner in order to prevent you from further misusing it. As a gesture of respect and of friendship, and in recognition of the dangers you now face and the maturity with which you face them, I am willing to remove that restriction. I must warn you, however, that the Ministry does track their use and misuse. You very nearly lost this last time, Harry. If you misuse it again, I will not be able to protect you. You will lose your Time-Turner, and you and I will both be punished. Do you understand?"

Harry's eyebrows had shot up, and there was a distinct element of surprise even in his phoenix-calm voice as he replied. "Thank you, Minerva. Thank you _very_ much. I understand perfectly, and I promise I will be very careful. I realise the personal risk you're taking for my sake, and I am profoundly grateful. I have nothing equivalent to offer in return, but please tell me anytime I can help you with anything."

He handed over his Time-Turner, and she removed the timed locking charm. After a moment's thought, she cast a Charm of Unbreakability on the Time-Turner's protective shell before handing it back. Harry bowed to her, and she spoke once more.

"Harry, you are more powerful now, but you are still vulnerable. The fate of Magical Britain at the very least depends on your actions even now, and it is vitally important that you have good advisors. Your intelligence is beyond question, but you are young, and you do not yet fully understand many of the areas in which you choose to intervene. Miss Granger is sensible and knowledgeable and also extremely clever, and you should certainly listen to her, but there is much that she also does not yet know. I very much fear that you do not yet have adequate counsel available to you, and the importance of such counsel could hardly be plainer. Ordinarily I would encourage you to seek out the Headmaster for advice, but you and I both know that you won't.

"I've known Albus Dumbledore for many long years, Mr Potter. I have worked with him, relaxed with him, fought a war by his side. Without him I would not be alive today. Please understand, my loyalty to Albus runs deep. I would risk my life to save his, in a heartbeat, even now."

She looked away from Harry, taking a few deep breaths before she looked back to him and continued.

"For many years I have disagreed with the Headmaster on some matters, but I have always trusted that he knew best. Since you arrived at Hogwarts, however, I've found myself disagreeing with him both more frequently and more sharply. I could not even bear to be present when Severus punished Miss Granger for doing what was right; I yelled at Albus when I learned what was planned, but he refused to listen. And today, this morning, I watched my old friend fight to let a twelve-year-old girl be sent to Azkaban. I watched you, an eleven-year-old boy, stand against the most powerful wizard in Magical Britain and do what was right. And so, Mr Potter, I understand why you feel you cannot trust Albus Dumbledore. It breaks my heart to say this, but I believe you are right.

"Harry, I believe that you hold the future of Magical Britain in your hands. You proved this morning that you are willing to do what is right, no matter the difficulty. Albus, alas, proved the contrary. "

Minerva McGonagall leaned forward across her desk, face deadly serious. "Harry, from now on I shall place your interests and wishes above Albus'. Permanently. You will tell no one of this offer. Do you understand?"

Even floating in the peace of the phoenix, Harry was shocked by that. His jaw dropped slightly, and he goggled at Minerva McGonagall as he frantically reconsidered his assessment of her. After a few seconds, he concluded that she was in any case trying to help him - he could puzzle over the reasons later.

"Thank you, Minerva. I... Um. Thank you. I don't really know what else to say, but I am so incredibly grateful to you."

He looked down at his feet, his breathing rapid and shallow as he fought to control his emotions. This took some time, but eventually he raised his head again.

"I gratefully accept your offer, and I apologise for misjudging you in the past."

"Apology accepted. Now, Harry, you have placed yourself in significant danger, and the attack on Draco Malfoy shows that there are other dangers to consider also. You do still have powerful enemies in the Wizengamot, particularly in the person of Lord Jugson, and I do not believe that you are safe in Hogwarts as things currently stand. Do you have any immediate plans to make yourself safer?"

Minerva set parchment on the desk before her and took up a quill, and Harry leaned forward slightly. "That's actually why I wanted to see you. I completely agree that Hogwarts isn't safe, and I want to make it safe - for me and my friends, of course, but also for everyone. I'd very much appreciate your advice and your help with that - I think it's time for Hogwarts to take security seriously.

"I already have a Time-Turner, and you've very kindly removed the prior restrictions on its use - thanks again for that - but I want Time-Turners to give to my friends as well. Er... By 'my friends' I mean Hermione, Neville, and Draco. Rest assured that I'll talk to each of them first, particularly Draco, before giving out such dangerous items - I won't hand anything over unless I'm satisfied that it's safe to do so. That being said, I want them as well-equipped as we can manage. I already have an invisibility cloak, which incidentally is one of the Deathly Hallows, but I want my friends to have the best cloaks that money can buy."

Minerva broke in at this point, her voice shaking with the shock of it. "Your cloak is _the_ Cloak of Invisibility?"

Harry nodded calmly, lips twitching only slightly. "I believe so, yes. That's what Dumbledore said when he gave it to me, anyway, although technically that was all anonymous and he wrote it in a note. Anyway, apparently it was my dad's, and he lent it to Dumbledore just before he died."

Minerva was still staring at Harry, trying to understand what it meant that he was giving her this information. As if reading that in her face, he changed tack slightly.

"The reason I'm telling you this is that you've just given me a lot of trust, and I think you deserve the same in return. Plus I really need your help, and it'd be pretty stupid for me not to give you all the information I can before I ask you for advice."

He paused, closing his eyes for a moment as he collected his thoughts.

"That first day in Diagon Alley, I told you that I'd never been able to trust my parents to be reasonable. But it's more than that, Professor - I've never known an adult that I could trust completely, even now. Dumbledore is brilliant and powerful, and I think he's spent his whole life trying to do what's right, but I can't trust his judgement, and I can't trust him not to get in my way when we disagree. Quirrell thinks clearly, more clearly than I do even at my best, but I can't trust _him_ to be good. You're the only other adult that I know well, and until now I thought you were trapped in the role you were playing. So you see, I haven't had an adult I could trust. I think you've just _become_ an adult that I can trust, and I really really want you to know how much that means to me. There are still some things that are genuinely too dangerous for me to tell you right now - I'm really sorry about that - but I promise you that I will be totally open and honest with you about everything that I can without breaking oaths."

Minerva stared intently at this strange serious adult in the body of a child, beginning to realise that even now she had underestimated both him and the situation. She nodded slowly, and he continued.

"Actually, I may even decide that it's worth breaking an oath in order to give you information. I'll have to think about that, though, so for now I'll stick to safer topics. Anyway, feel free to ask me any questions at all in private - the worst that can happen is that I say I can't answer."

She nodded, and he went on.

"So, I'd covered Time-Turners and invisibility cloaks. I also want each of us to have at least one spare wand, properly matched to us like our current wands are - money is no object, and wands are just too important to risk being without. I also want each of us to have a pouch like the one I have. I want each of us to have a three-person broomstick to put in that pouch, and a toe-ring portkey in case we're kidnapped and taken outside Hogwarts' wards. Oh, and I want each of us to have a reliable and effective way to call for help. Say a panic button that alerts the rest of us, including you, Professor, and gives location and hopefully some sort of two-way communications. That's about it for us specifically - what do you think?"

Minerva looked at Harry a moment longer, then glanced down at her parchment.

"I very much doubt that I can obtain further Time-Turners, I'm afraid - they are highly restricted, and I am taking a substantial risk even unlocking yours for you. We can ask Filius about invisibility cloaks - he will know either where to buy them or how to make them, and I trust him. I do not, however, trust Draco Malfoy - we shall have to discuss that particular question with Filius, since we need his help in that matter anyway. Spare wands are an excellent idea, given that you possess great wealth and face tremendous danger - if I am to fight alongside you, perhaps I should even buy a spare wand myself. Pouches and broomsticks are a good idea also, and present no great difficulty. Portkeys may be a little more difficult, but I think we can manage - again, I strongly recommend that we ask Filius for help. We will certainly want his help for this 'panic button' that you suggest - I could manage a basic cry for help and perhaps something for location, but that would be my limit."

Harry nodded. "Thank you. We can talk more later, just you and I, but should we bring Professor Flitwick into this conversation now? I'm not ready to trust him the way I'm trusting you, but I do trust him to help me make this school safer."

Minerva nodded. After a wave of her wand and a pinch of Floo powder, she said "Ravenclaw Head of House office" and stuck her head into the green flames dancing merrily in the hearth. Harry couldn't hear what she said, but a moment later she withdrew her head and stood up again. Another moment, and Filius Flitwick spun out of the flames. His wand dangled loosely from his fingertips, but his eyes were intent as he took in the room in a single graceful spin. Suddenly the tiny man didn't seem comical at all to Harry.

Flitwick spoke first, glancing at the unknown phoenix on Harry's shoulder. "What happened at the trial?"

Harry briefly recounted the events of the morning.

After a pause to absorb the information, Flitwick addressed Harry soberly.

"Very well. A remarkable achievement, Mr Potter - another time, I shall ask you how you achieved that which Merlin himself could not. For now, Minerva said you required my help with some security precautions?"

Harry nodded, and then relayed to Filius the security precautions that he and Minerva had been discussing, including Minerva's comments. Filius looked somewhat impressed.

"Excellent thinking. Minerva is correct on all counts, though I cannot guarantee invisibility cloaks - they are difficult to make, and even more difficult to purchase. You and I must talk at length to design those panic buttons, but they should be easy enough for me to make once I know exactly what you want."

Harry inclined his head. "Thank you, Filius."

Filius fixed Harry with a penetrating look.

"Before any of this, however, you will explain to me why I should desire that a group of first-year students have invisibility cloaks. Especially, Mr Potter, a group containing Draco Malfoy."

Harry met Filius' eyes unflinchingly.

"Draco especially needs this protection, Professor. He nearly _died_, and he's an obvious target for future attacks. Not only would his loss hurt me, but it would have dramatic effects on Lord Malfoy - we saw that this morning. I acknowledge that he could misuse an invisibility cloak, but that risk is insignificant compared to the risk that he will actually die next time."

"Very well, Harry. Just be aware that you bear partial responsibility if Mr Malfoy does indeed abuse his cloak. Or Hermione or Neville, for that matter."

"Duly acknowledged, Professor, and thank you."

Filius now looked intently into Harry's eyes.

"You mentioned protecting other students, Harry, beyond just you and your friends. What did you have in mind?"

In the corner of his eye, Harry noticed Minerva leaning forward with her elbows on her desk. Filius had absently and wordlessly conjured a chair some time ago, and Harry himself was perched once more on Minerva's usual visitor chair. He grinned somewhat manically.

"I've got a whole new security system planned, which should actually make this crazy castle safe for the children who have to live in it. And I mean safe against anything, from ordinary bullying all the way up to an actual army attacking from inside the castle."

"Ambitious. How would you achieve this?"

"Well, it basically boils down to a stronghold and the means to reach it. For a stronghold I suggest the infirmary, since healing will be crucial in most emergency scenarios anyway. I say we put serious security on it - everything we can think of that won't interfere with its day-to-day operations, plus an extra set of protections that we can activate if we no longer care about its day-to-day operations. We should add a special secure room, accessible only via the infirmary, and able to house basically the entire population of the castle if necessary. Oh, and that room should be accessible to Hogwarts house elves - we'll need food in any sustained emergency, and I believe that the kitchens are well-protected.

"So that's the stronghold, anyway. Next we need a ward on the castle which automatically teleports injured people to the infirmary - I want this to work both by the sudden-damage measure that's currently used for the Headmaster's alarms, and by the absolute-health test that Quirrell apparently put on Draco Malfoy. It might be a good idea to give people an option to refuse the teleport, but only if they consciously choose to stay - by default, anyone who really needs medical attention should get it. Er... It occurs to me that this needs to be specific to known residents of Hogwarts - we don't want enemies to be able to get into our stronghold just by stubbing a toe or something. Oh, and there also needs to be a way for students to activate this teleport manually to get themselves out of danger. That needs to be easy for even a new first-year to manage, so the power has to come from the wards.

"That's the main security system I want, anyway. The only other thing is bullying, and I'd like a general policy that any and all bullying that's reported from now on will be verified by either Veritaserum or a Pensieve - using the victim's memories in either case, so the bully can't refuse to cooperate. I don't think this is quite as important now as it would have been before Hermione and her friends and then that amazing ritual, but I think it's still worth doing if we can."

Minerva spoke up.

"Harry, we can't force victims of bullying to take Veritaserum. I won't allow it."

"Good point, Professor - that will have to be strictly optional."

Minerva nodded, mollified, and she and Harry both turned to Filius.

Filius gazed at Harry for a few seconds before speaking.

"Very impressive, Harry - you really have thought this through. I think your plan is excellent, but we will most certainly require Albus Dumbledore's help. Have you considered how we might persuade him?"

"Not really, to be honest - I guessed that we might need his help, but I just hoped I'd be able to talk him into it. I haven't really planned beyond that. The only reason I've been able to give you such complete plans is because I was thinking about it between the arrest and the trial. I had no idea what was going to happen this morning, and I haven't had time to do much thinking with that information in mind. At this point I'm just hoping I can talk him into it, preferably now before the shock wears off."

Minerva, sitting at her desk with several sheets of notes, interjected at this point.

"Shall we go and see Albus now, then?"

Harry and Filius nodded, and the three of them headed for the door.


End file.
